Page 134 of Vicious Sentiments

It jabs into his chest and I blanch at the pain, freezing. For a moment, I’m scared again. What consequences will that bring? But then he yelps and the sound licks up my spine in pure pleasure.

I hurt him.

And it felt good.

“Bitch,” he snarls and his hand connects with my face.

My cheek hits the sand and my vision prickles. Little bright dots like stars in the sky, but he hits like my dad. Who hit like Kyle. Who hit like every other man with a tiny dick. He doesn’t know that I’m used to it and it’s nothing compared to the way Cape drug me around the workout room like a rag doll.

A slow smile spreads on my face and a few grains of sand slip into my mouth. I grind them between my teeth as I realize how weak all these men are. Like little grains of sandthat I can crush.

They aren’t real men. Not like Julian or Cape and suddenly, I feel more capable than I ever have. If I learned to fight from real men, I can take out the fake ones with ease.

And with ease comes everything Cape taught me.

I’m not scared.

I’m not numb.

I’mangry.

I twist my neck to face him and his tomato face. He must notice something in my features because his bottom lips falls open, and I take the opportunity to snap my head up and crack my skull against his.

Fuck, that hurt. Cape never had us try it but he told me how to do it.

Dillon cries out, and I shake the pain away, scrambling backwards and tugging up my pants as he falls back on his butt.

“I’m sorry,” he whines as he palms his forehead. “I don’t know what—”

I don’t let him finish as I stand and kick him in the ribs. He barrels over, and I kick again, as hard as I can.

He lets out a huff and coughs. That’s it? One hit and he gives up?

I could run now. I could scream.

But I don’t want to. I want him to know that he can never try that again. To me or any woman. I want him to be afraid to ever pull his tiny dick out again.

I lean over and rip at his hair, pulling his head up to look at me and then I ram my fist into his nose. The satisfying crunch blots out any damage my knuckles might have taken, and I do it again.

“Please,” he sputters as blood pours over his lips. “I’m sor—”

I bring my knee up and let it collide with his chin. He doesn’t get to be sorry because if it wasn’t for Cape, I would be laying in the cold sand right now while he rapes me. No amount of pleading wouldhave saved me. It doesn’t get to save him.

His teeth rattle against each other, and I let go of his hair. He falls forward, face first into the sand, and I resume kicking him, using proper form like Cape taught me so I don’t hurt myself.

Is this what it felt like for my dad when he would kick me? Soft flesh giving in so easily, the knowledge of how delicate bones really are against rage? The only difference is that I didn’t deserve it. Dillon deserves it for what he tried to do to me, for what he’s put Margo through. He’s earned the pain he’s getting and then some. Some from what Mr. Canes did, some for what my dad did, and some for Kyle too.

It’s only as exhaustion kicks in that I notice shadows coming down the stairs and descending upon me.

“Shh. Shh. Shh.” Julian grabs me from behind suddenly and locks his arms over my chest.

“What happened?” Cape roars, trying to look me up and down but I flail against Julian’s grip, still trying to kick.

“Shhhhh.” Julian tucks his lips into my ear, and any other time I would melt at his breath so close, but right now, I am vengeance. “Shhh.” He tries again.

Shhh, what?!

The second I question it, I hear it.

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